


Oxus

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4905862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang challenges Pyrrha to a no-holds-barred brawl, and it goes even better than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oxus

As it turned out, throwing a gauntlet at Pyrrha Nikos meant there was a damn good chance it would come right around and hit you in the face.

Yang staggered back with a split lip, blood dripping down her chin in a hot line. It stung with her next breath, sweat driving salt into the wound, and she brought both arms back up in time to block a flurry of punches. Each one was a blur in the air, solid and precise, chipping into her guard like a chisel on marble. She didn’t want to crack, but Pyrrha was relentless, and standing there trying to weather the storm was asking to be worn straight through. A quick sidestep was enough to dodge the next shot, allowing a split second’s grace before a roundhouse slammed into her jaw with all the force of a sledgehammer.

The world spun, black on the edges, before Yang found her footing and braced for a knee to the stomach, soaking up the blow with a growl so she could hook her hand under Pyrrha’s leg and twist hard. Off-balance and losing her leverage, Pyrrha retreated back to the center of the ring, a dark red stain starting to soak through the wrap on her left hand. Yang knew she wasn’t a southpaw, but the difference in strength was negligible, if the ache pulsing through her battered ribs was any proof. Every breath she took in was like the bellows of a forge, working her lungs hotter and hotter. Her Semblance was ready to burst from the center of that heat, swallow the pain and then spit it back out, but Yang reined herself in at the last moment.

She’d made the rules herself – no weapons, no armor, no Aura – and there was no backing down now.

Since they’d met, the urge to know had boiled in her gut. Everyone who’d ever glanced at a tournament ticker in the last five years had Pyrrha’s name ringing in their heads, but that was at peak enhancement, and Yang wanted to know what she was like stripped down to the limits of the body. She hadn’t expected to win – even without spear and shield, Pyrrha was still trained by some of the best coaches in the kingdoms – but the curiosity wouldn’t fade until she’d seen it herself, had the proof stamped onto her skin.

It wasn’t like Pyrrha was getting off unscathed. The cut from a hard left had just stopped bleeding on her cheek, and bruises were flourishing on both legs from kicks exchanged, not to mention the finger-shaped outline mirrored on either side of her ribs from when Yang snagged her in a full-body hold and gripped tight. They had been going for round after round, only now starting to tire, and it was a matter of who could outlast while still getting their licks in.

“Your right arm’s dropping.” Pyrrha said, a warning instead of insult given. Even in the ring, she sounded like a bit of a coach herself.

Yang adjusted her guard, trying to keep from locking up. Going too rigid would stall out her reaction time, and hurt like hell if Pyrrha got another good hit in. “And you switched up your stance. That last grab leave your knees weak?”

“Yang.” The chastising tone she expected wasn’t there, just a brilliant smile that sent a thrill right up her spine. “When you make my knees weak, you’ll know it.”

Yang blinked, trying not to sputter, but that window was just long enough for Pyrrha to lunge forward, landing a punch powerful enough to send her sprawling against the ropes. The bounce would have knocked her off her feet without a swift recovery, but Yang came back laughing, joyous in the rush of adrenaline. Pyrrha backed away after the blow, guard high, and amusement left her eyes glittering.

“You never struck me as a flirt, Nikos.” Yang teased, closing the distance between them again and putting in a few light shots to test Pyrrha’s guard. Still solid as a rock, but the hits back weren’t being dished out as readily anymore.

She shrugged, the easy roll of her shoulders making the muscle there flex. “In front of an audience, I’m not.”

“Well, now we got some privacy.” The door to the gym had been locked right after they came in, just in case the noise of the fight attracted any attention. Yang hadn’t intended this to be any kind of spectacle. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Your right’s dropping again.”

Yang brought her arm up in time to block a sharp cross, but the punch went wide, an obvious feint. Pyrrha’s leg took both of hers out from under her, and in the instant before Yang could spring up to recover, she was stomach-down on the mat, one elbow pinned back and a knee pressing on the soft spot below her shoulder blades. For a moment, she lay there stunned, replaying the move in her head before choking out another laugh.

“That was such a dirty play.” She murmured into rough red canvas; arching her neck up wouldn’t work from this position.

“You were talking more than fighting.” Pyrrha said simply.

A brief mental once-over confirmed she didn’t have the reserves to brute-force her way out of the hold, not without tapping into Semblance. Damn. “It’s called foreplay, babe.”

“Actions speak louder than words.” Pyrrha warned, the words whispered just shy of her ear, and the pin on Yang’s elbow tightened, trembling on the edge of pain.

Her free hand slapped the mat a second later, giving in with three taps, and Pyrrha immediately let go, extricating her knee with care before settling against the floor to catch her breath. Yang rolled onto her back, letting out a groan as the ache radiating up to her shoulder eased.

Green eyes went wide in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” A night of sleep and a big breakfast would take care of any bruises that weren’t already fading. “You’re unreal, though. I don’t think I’ve ever been hit so hard in my life.”

“You made me use everything I had.” Pyrrha admitted, sounding a little sheepish, but pleased too. “I’ve unseated a few champions who couldn’t put out half your power. Who taught you?”

“My dad, sometimes. My mom when she was home.” One of them, anyway. “I always wanted to be set to fight, even if I didn’t have a weapon on me. A threat.”

“Well, you’ve succeeded.” Getting to her feet, Pyrrha offered an arm up, and Yang took it.

After unwrapping their hands and wiping down the ring, Yang followed Pyrrha into the adjoining locker room. It was just as empty, although she knew seniors sneaked down here sometimes to get at private stashes, whether of Dust or something else. The teachers almost never came down here, not when it was in the belly of the school and too small to hold a full class.

Pyrrha started to spin the combination on her lock as Yang leaned back against the opposite rack of lockers. Now a different sort of curiosity was gnawing at her gut. “Hey. Quick question.”

Pyrrha’s thumb flicked out, setting the first number. “Yes?”

“You were only playing with me back there, right?” Her pulse jumped at the alternative, but Yang swallowed that thought back down. “I know I flirt pretty heavy and sometimes people go with it. Just want to clear the air.”

Calloused fingertips hesitated over the lock, and before Yang could apologize for the presumption, the space between them narrowed to nothing. Pyrrha’s mouth was on hers, scorching hot, and the pressure against where she’d split her lip added a frisson of pain that stole a gasp right out of Yang’s lungs. She returned the kiss with fervor, tasting iron and salt, and realized she was weightless, Pyrrha’s iron grip not only keeping her pinned against the locker, but suspended with both feet barely touching the ground.

When they broke apart, she landed easy, but Pyrrha’s eyes were dark with desire, strong enough to take her under with a single look. “Does that answer your question?”

A beat passed, and Pyrrha sighed, frustration filtering through her expression. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired of being lead around.”

“No, I got it. Actions, words. Right.” Yang was breathless, in awe. Their bodies fit together perfectly, cast from different molds but the same raw material, white-hot and unyielding. It had turned her blood to liquid gold, ready and eager to ignite. Still, she needed to ask one more thing. “How’s the shower?”

Reading for the band of her sports bra, Pyrrha drew it over her head in one smooth motion. Yang drank in every new inch of exposed bronze skin, the hard interplay of muscle with the softer swell of her breasts, still kissed with sweat from their bout. 

She only snapped out of it when Pyrrha spoke, voice a touch lower in pitch than it had been a moment ago. “As long as you can keep up.”

Yang knew a challenge when she heard one. “ _Yes_ , ma’am.”

As it turned out, her stamina had already recovered just fine.

–

_Oxus is a title ascribed to Ares, meaning “piercing (like a spear), swift, eager.”_


End file.
